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Oh, May, we have heard all about it, and we are so sorry. 




MAY BARTLETT’S 
STEPMOTHER 


BY 


NORA PERRY 


II 

AUTHOR OF “ANOTHER FLOCK OF GIRLS,” “A FLOCK OF 
GIRLS AND BOyS,” “A ROSEBUD GARDEN OF 
GIRLS,” “HOPE BENHAM,” ETC. 


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53119 

LibP&ry ef Con<ji«*««« 
‘'wu toftts Keceived 
SEP 28 1900 

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OKOt« W\'1S<OH. 

OC T 18 1900 


Copyright, 1890, 
By Nora Perry 


Copyright, 1900, 

By Little, Brown, and Company 
All rights reserved 



^Snibersitu Press 

John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. 


MAY BARTLETT^S STEPMOTHER 


1 . 

STEPMOTHER ? How 
horrid ! ” 

“ Horrid ! I should 
think so.” 

“ What is it that is 
horrid, girls ? ” asked 
another girl, who, in 
passing, had caught only 
the last sentence. 

“ Why, about May Bartlett, you know.” 

“ No, I don’t know ; what is it ? ” 

“ She has a stepmother.” 

‘‘ No ! ” 

“ Yes, yes,” cried the first two speakers, — 
the Macy sisters, Joanna and Elsie. 

But when, when did it happen, this step- 
mother business ? ” exclaimed the girl to whom 
they were telling the news. “I saw May in va- 
cation, and she did n’t lisp a word of it.” 

“ But you have n’t seen her since you came 
back ? ” 



1 


2 MAY BARTLETT’S STEPMOTHER. 


“Well, no ; as this is my first hour back, 
almost. But tell me when the stepmother was 
brought on the scene ? ’’ 

“ A week ago, — that is, Mr. Bartlett was mar- 
ried to her then ; but he has n’t brought her 
home yet. They are travelling.” 

“ Who told you ? ” 

“ Mrs. Marks, the housekeeper. I went round 
yesterday to see if May was at home.” 

“ And you saw May ? ” 

“ No ; she was n’t expected until the late 
afternoon train.” 

“ And she did n’t know anything about the 
stepmother until a week ago ? ” 

“ Two weeks ago ; a week before the marriage.” 

“ Well, I call that downright cruel. If it was 
my father ! ” And Cathy Bond stam^.ed a little 
foot on the floor with an emphasis that spoke 
unutterable things. Two or three more girls 
who had just entered the schoolroom came up at 
this demonstration with a “ What ’s the matter, 
Cathy ? ” And the matter was told over again 
with a new chorus of “ ohs ” and “ ahs ” and 
“ poor Mays.” There was only one disagreeing 
voice, — a soft little voice that broke into the 
“ ohs ” and “ ahs,” saying, “ Stepmothers are 
very nice sometimes. I have a cousin — ” 


MAY BARTLETT’S STEPMOTHER. 3 


‘‘ Nice ! ” cried Cathy, and then directly went 
off in a flow of wild talk, — a string of stories 
all going to show that stepmothers were any- 
thing but nice. 

At the first hint of a pause, the little soft 
voice began again, — 

‘‘ I have a cousin — ’’ but Cathy had mounted 
her hobby-horse of prejudice, and flashed 
out, — 

“Oh, bother your cousin, Susy Morris; I 
know two girls intimately., who have step- 
mothers, and they can’t do anything, not any- 
thing., they want to do ! ” 

“ Who, the stepmothers ? ” asked Joanna, slyly. 

“ No ; the girls, of course,” answered Cathy, 
rather crossly. “ And they used to have every- 
thing, and do just exactly as they pleased. Oh, 
you need n’t talk to me about stepmothers ; they 
interfere between the fathers and children, and 
are a meddling, selfish set.” 

As Cathy paused to take breath, Susy 
promptly struck in with, “ I have a cousin — ” 
but a shout of laughter interrupted, and Joanna 
Macy repeated, with merry mockery, “I have a 
cousin ; ” then, turning and clutching Susy in 
a swift embrace, she cried out, — 

“ Oh, you dear, queer, funny little thing, with 


4 MAY BARTLETT’S STEPMOTHER. 


your running chorus, ‘I have a cousin.’ But 
tell us about her. Come, Susy has the floor; 
Susy ’s going to tell us about the cousin. If 
Cathy interrupts, we ’ll put her out. Now, 
Susy, begin, ‘ I have a cousin.’ ” 

Susy blushed a little, but without any sign 
of annoyance unhesitatingly took up the words, 
“ I have a cousin,” and went on with her 
story. 

It was a sweet little story of kindness and 
comfort and happiness brought into a lonely 
home to a lonely child, by a sweet, kind, good 
woman. 

But it did not make the impression it ought 
to have made upon the girl listeners, for Cathy’s 
stormy talk of injustice and cruelty had blown 
into their minds a tangle of wild thoughts, just 
as a storm in Nature blows all the wild weeds 
and sticks and stones into a tangle of dust and 
dirt that confuses and blinds one. 

Susy, who appeared so slow and placid, liad a 
keen perception of some things. Her mind was 
like a little clear lake through which she seemed 
to look and see the truth. Through this clear 
little lake she now looked and saw that not one of 
these girls, not even Joanna, whom she specially 
loved, received her story with much belief. It 


MAY BARTLETT^ S STEPMOTHER. 5 


was not that they thought she was wilfully tell- 
ing what was not true, but they were saying to 
themselves, — 

“ Oh, that is only Susy’s easy, pleasant way 
of taking people. Susy doesn’t understand.” 
But Susy did understand more than they im- 
agined ; and it was out of this understanding 
that she started up suddenly with a quicker 
motion than was common with her, and in a 
quicker tone cried out, — 

“ My father says that prejudice makes people 
deaf and blind.” She paused a second, gave a 
short sigh, and dropping into her ordinary man- 
ner, and in her little soft, drawling voice she 
added, “ If ’t would only make ’em dumb, ’t would 
be all right.” 

The girls were used to Susy’s wise speeches, 
spoken in that soft voice of hers, and with a 
curious twist to the letter r, which she could n’t 
pronounce without giving to it a half sound of 
w; and they generally laughed, not at the 
speeches alone, but at the Quaint combination 
of the speeches and Susy together. As a matter 
of habit they laughed now; but Joanna had 
caught the spirit of the speech, and she followed 
the laugh by saying, — 

“ Susy is right ; prejudice does make us deaf 


6 MAY BARTLETT* S STEPMOTHER. 


and blind, and it is a pity we could n’t be dumb 
too instead of talking such stuff ! What do we 
know really about stepmothers ? ” 

“We know what everybody has always said,” 
struck in Cathy. 

“ Everybody is always saying everything.” 

“ But there are the Longley girls, — my two 
friends I told you of.” 

“ And there is Susy’s cousin ; that ’s the other 
side. I’ll set that against the Longlegs, or 
whatever is their name.” 

“ Well, I sha’n’t. I shall never believe in 
stepmothers; I know — ” 

A quick “ hush ” from Joanna arrested Cathy’s 
sentence. She looked up. They all looked up ; 
and there was May Bartlett, not three feet 
away ! How long had she been there ? How 
much had she heard? Perhaps she had just 
come in and had heard nothing. But she was 
standing at her desk, and her books were un- 
strapped and set in order. She must have 
heard something in this time. Joanna could 
have stamped with vexation at herself, and at 
the others. Oh, why, why, had she — had they 
all — been so careless ? But something must be 
done. Somebody must go forward and speak as 
if nothing had happened. Joanna started on 


MAY BARTLETT'S STEPMOTHER. 7 


this errand, but Cathy was before her, and in 
the next moment, flinging her arms about 
May, was saying in an impressive, pitying 
accent, — 

“Oh, May, we have heard all about it; and 
we are so sorry.” 

May Bartlett was a proud girl, who generally 
held her private affairs in a good deal of reserve, 
but this sudden demonstration at this time was 
too much for her self-control, and she burst 
into tears. Joanna could have beaten Cathy. 
Why could n’t she have greeted May as if 
nothing liad happened ? But that was just 
like Cathy, to make a scene. 

The girls came forward awkwardly after this, 
and there was a general uncomfortable time, 
until Susy suddenly burst out in her odd little 
way, — 

“ Oh, May ’s got a straight bang ! ” 

The girls giggled; Joanna caught Susy in a 
little hug; and the tragic atmosphere was re- 
lieved. 


8 MAY BARTLETT’S STEPMOTHER. 


IL 

A WEEK later, May Bartlett was standing at 
the parlor window waiting for her father and his 
new wife, her stepmother. 

“ Why don’t you go to the depot to meet 
them ? ” asked Mrs. Marks. 

May had colored up angrily at this question, 
and a hot rush of tears had blinded her eyes as 
she turned away without answering. But it was 
a natural question for Mrs. Marks to ask, for 
May had been in the habit of meeting her father 
at the pretty little suburban station almost every 
afternoon on his return from the city. “ But 
meet them at the depot ! How could Mrs. 
Marks speak of such a thing ! ” the girl thought 
indignantly. 

Tick, tack, tick, tack, went the little cathedral 
clock on the mantel. In fifteen minutes the 
train would be in, and in five, ten minutes more 
the carriage would be at the door, and then — 
and then — the tears that May had tried to keep 
under control suddenly overflowed, as she im- 
agined the change that was coming. Eight 
weeks ago, when she had gone away with her 


MAY BARTLETT* S STEPMOTHER. 9 


Aunt Mary to the seashore to spend her vaca- 
tion, May had planned what she would do in the 
autumn. In the first place, she would have a 
party, — a garden-party, for September was a 
lovely month at Hillside, and her father had 
promised her a garden-party ever since they had 
taken possession of their new house there, three 
years ago. She would invite all the girls of her 
set at the Hillside Seminary, and as many of her 
friends in town — and by “ town ” she meant 
Boston, which was only six miles away — as 
had returned from their summer jaunts. Then 
she would persuade her father to buy her a 
village wagon. She could drive very well, as he 
himself had said, and she could bring him from 
the station quite as well in a village wagon as 
in the shabby old phaeton which she was per- 
mitted to use, when Patrick was too busy to go 
with the dog-cart. Yes, a party and a dear little 
duck of a wagon like Marion Grant’s, and then 
— and then — but at this point of her recollec- 
tion her tears flowed afresh, for of course all 
these pretty plans must go, with the coming of 
the new mother — no, the stepmother ; she 
would never, never call her mother ! Her 
mother ! she looked up at the portrait that hung 
above the little clock, — the portrait of a fair 


10 MAV BAUTZETrS STEPMOTffEJi. 


sweet-faced woman with pleasant eyes that 
seemed to follow you about with a laugh in 
them. She died five years ago, when May was 
nine years old ; but May could almost fancy she 
heard her mother saying, as those laughing eyes 
met her daughter’s, — 

‘‘ What ’s the matter with the little daughter 
now ? ” 

A sob caught in the daughter’s throat here, 
and she cried aloud, Oh, Mamma, Mamma, it ’s 
no small thing that ’s the matter now, but a very, 
very great thing ! It ’s somebody coming to take 
your place, — your place and mine. Mamma.” 
But if May had a half fancy that the eyes would 
look different, would change their merry ex- 
pression at this, she was mistaken. As the 
yellow afternoon sun sent a bright dancing ray 
across the canvas, the eyes seemed to dance with 
it in the happiest possible way, and tick, tack, 
tick, tack, the little clock sent its yellow pendu- 
lum back and forth in the sunshine. From the 
portrait. May glanced at the clock-face. Why, 
why, why ! the fifteen minutes had passed, and 
so absorbed had she been in her thoughts that 
she had not heard the locomotive whistle. How 
very odd ! She ran out of the room, and out of 
the hall upon the piazza. The train must have 


MAY BARTLETT'S STEPMOTHER. 11 


arrived, and in five minutes more she would hear 
the carriage. From end to end she paced slowly 
up and down. How sweet the honeysuckle 
smelled, and the late lilies were all red and gold 
bloom. Leaning over the railing, she broke one 
from its stem and pinned it in her dress ; as she 
did so, she could see the clock through the open 
window. Not only five, but ten minutes had 
gone. She stopped and listened. Was that the 
carriage ? No. Five minutes more. The train 
could n’t have arrived. What was the matter ? 
Tick, tack, tick, tack, another five minutes went 
by, and Mrs. Marks came out on the piazza. 

“ My dear, I never knew this train to be late,” 
she said anxiously. Then May’s endurance gave 
way, and catching her hat from the hall-stand, 
she ran down the steps, calling back as she 
went, — 

“ I ’m going to the depot, Mrs. Marks, to see if 
anything has been heard. I can’t wait here.” 

‘‘ That ’s right, dearie; you’ll feel better to go, 
but I would n’t worry, — there ’s been some de- 
lay somewhere, that ’s all.” 

“ Some delay somewhere ! ” May thought of 
the delay that had occurred on the Boston and 
Providence road the year before, when the Ros- 
lindale bridge had given way, and hundreds of 


12 MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 


people had gone down with it. Her heart seemed 
to beat up into her throat, to stop her voice, and 
almost her breath. She could not frame the 
words to ask a question when she entered the 
depot, but she heard some one say, There ’s 
been an accident.” She lost the next sentence, 
and caught only the last words, “ — but the track 
is clear now, and the train has started.” 

Walking to the farther end of the platform, 
away from all the people, poor May sat down 
upon a baggage-truck to watch and wait. As 
she sat there she imagined the worst that could 
have happened. Perhaps her father was badly 
hurt, perhaps he was killed, and she would never 
see him again ; and at the very time when he had 
been suffering, perhaps dying, she had been hav- 
ing hard thoughts of him, had blamed him for 
what he had done and what he had not done, 
— for marrying again, and for not telling her 
of his plans until the last moment. She grew 
hot, then cold, as she thought of the words she 
had said to Cathy Bond, — of how she had joined 
her in calling him unkind, and even cruel. Oh, 
if only he came back alive, so that she could 
show him how she loved him ! If only he came 
back, she would not do any of the disagreeable 
things she had declared to Cathy Bond that she 


MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 13 


would do. She would — yes, she would — even 
kiss her stepmother when she met her. She had 
said to Cathy only yesterday, “ I shall not kiss 
her, and I shall be very stiff and cold to both of 
them.” To both of them ! Perhaps, perhaps — 
In another moment May would have lost all 
control of herself and burst out crying, if the 
sound of a long shrill whistle had not roused 
her to the immediate present. As she heard it, 
she jumped to her feet and ran up the platform. 

Yes, there was the train rounding the curve. 
In a minute she would know — what ? She 
crowded her way through the throng of people 
to the front. Swiftly, then slackening in speed, 
the cars roll in and come to a full stop. There 
are faces at the windows, there are voices say- 
ing, “ I am so glad to see you ; ” but not the 
face, not the voice she is longing for. She 
turns sick, cold, and dizzy, and staggers back- 
ward with an attempt to get away out of this 
eager throng that seems so happy. Then it is 
that somebody cries, — 

“ Why, here she is, now ! ” 

She lifts her head, and there he is, — her 
handsome, young-looking father, sound and 
well, and smiling down upon her. 

“ Oh Papa, Papa ! I thought you were killed — 


14 MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 


the train was so late, and they said — they 
said — ” 

“ My dear child ! There, there, don’t — donH 
cry. It ’s all right, you see. Here, Margaret, 
here’s this little girl has been frightened half 
out of her wits at the delay — thought I was 
killed.” 

May made a great effort to be calm, but the 
reaction was so swift, it was hard work ; and her 
pale face and tremulous lips were expressive of 
her nervousness as she looked up to meet her 
stepmother’s glance. It was not a smiling 
glance like her father’s, but May found it easier 
to meet for that reason. She knew her father 
always dreaded what he called “ a scene,” and 
had always discouraged any outbreaks either of 
tears or excited laughter ; and with this knowl- 
edge she was perfectly well aware that her 
twitching lips and pallid face were annoying him 
at that moment. But this serious glance that 
met her, and the quiet remark, “ I don’t wonder 
that you were frightened at such a delay ; I 
should have been very much frightened in your 
place,” gave May a little time to recover herself; 
and then the quiet voice went on, asking no 
questions, but speaking of the causes of the 
delay, that did not, it seemed, involve much 


MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 15 


danger, being merely an accident of obstruction, 
by the breaking down of a freight-car, of which 
warning was duly given from station to station. 

“ Oh, I thought it was something dreadful,’^ 
May broke forth at this. “I heard some one 
say something about an accident, and I was too 
frightened to ask a question myself.” 

“ And so worked yourself up into a fever with 
your imagination, as usual, my dear,” her father 
responded, half laughing. 

‘‘She did the most natural thing in the world 
for a girl. I think I should have done the same 
thing,” the quiet voice here said, with an easy 
tone of bright decision. 

“ Oh, you ! I dare say. I Ve a pair of you, I 
see.” 

May looked at her father in surprise. He 
looked back at her with a funny little grimace. 

“ Yes, May, she ’s just such another goose as 
you are in some things.” 

May caught the smile upon her stepmother’s 
face. Her stepmother ! In the excitement she 
had for the moment forgotten the stepmother. 
She regarded her now for the first time with 
observing eyes. What did she see ? 

A tall slender young woman, with brunette 
coloring, and an air of ease and elegance about 


16 MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 


her. May glanced across at her father. How 
happy he seemed, and how young he appeared ! 
But he must be a great deal older than this new 
wife, — this “ Margaret.” He had gray hairs, 
and there was no gray in that dark coil and 
fluff under the small stylish bonnet. May took 
in all these details and said to herself, ‘‘ Why 
did she marry him, I wonder ? ” Then a mis- 
chievous little spirit whispered that her father 
was a rich man, and she remembered what 
Cathy Bond had said about girls marrying for 
money. Alas for May’s good resolutions, as 
she sat waiting for the train a few minutes 
before ! If her father only came back ! And 
here he was, full of life and strength, and she 
had forgotten already. If he only came back, 
she would show him how she loved him, she 
would even — kiss her stepmother when she met 
her ! But as the girl thought of this last duty 
which she had meant to perform, it suddenly 
came over her that she had really not been 
called upon to perform it, — that nobody, in 
fact, neither her father nor her stepmother, had 
seemed to expect it. Of course everything was 
to be accounted for by the excitement of the 
occasion, but, nevertheless, a feeling of chagrin 
sent a flush to May’s cheek at the recollection. 


MAY BARTLETTS STEPMOTHER. 17 


and then a swift sharp question stung her, 
“ Was this the way she was to be forgotten by 
them?” 

The tears sprang to her eyes again at this 
thought, and she had hard work to repress 
them, but a glance at her father, and the sure 
knowledge that she had of his dislike of un- 
necessary scenes, once more controlled her. 


III. 

“ A GARDEN-PARTY ? Why, yes, so I did prom- 
ise you a garden-party some time. I remember ; 
but it seems to me — it ’s rather late in the 
year, is n’t it ? ” 

“ Oh, no ; not if I set it for next week. Hill- 
side is lovely in September.” 

“ Yes, but next week is the fourth week in 
September, — pretty late in the month to count 
on the weather. Margaret,” and Mr. Bartlett’s 
voice rose a little louder in tone as he called to 
his wife, who was coming down one of the 
garden walks to the piazza where he and May 
were sitting. 

“ Yes,” responded Margaret, looking up from 
the flowers she carried. 


2 


18 MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 


“ Don’t you think the fourth week in Septem- 
ber is rather late for a garden-party ? ” 

“ Decidedly late. Why, I hope you are not 
thinking of giving a garden-party, are you ? ” 

“ I ? Oh, no ; it was May’s idea. There, you 
see, — you ’ll have to wait until next year, my 
dear,” turning to May. 

Margaret lifted her head quickly, and saw a 
rebellious expression on her stepdaughter’s face. 
It was a still, cold expression, that she had seen 
several times before in the three days she had 
been at Hillside. Coming forward more rapidly, 
she said easily and pleasantly, — 

“ It is very nice of you to think of a garden- 
party for me ; but it is rather late, you know.” 

Mr. Bartlett had taken up his newspaper, and 
paid no heed to these words. May sat silent, 
her chin dropped against her breast, all kinds of 
mutinous little thoughts in her mind, first and 
foremost of which was, “ She thinks everything 
is to be for her ! ” 

Mrs. Bartlett meanwhile stood regarding the 
down-bent face with a look of great perplexity, 
and with a slight flush on her cheek. The flush 
deepened, as May suddenly jumped from her 
chair, and catching up her school satchel, started 
off down the walk with a “ Good-by, Papa.” 


MAY BARTLETT^ S STEPMOTHER. 19 


Her father glanced over his paper with a look 
of surprise. It was not May’s habit to go away 
like this, without a good-by kiss. He was about 
to call her back, when he saw her join one of 
her school friends just outside the gate. In a 
few moments the matter slipped from his mind, 
in the absorbing interest of the political news he 
was reading. 

It was Cathy Bond whom May had joined. 
Cathy was full of a lively interest in the new 
stepmother. She had found May rather re- 
served in what she had said within the last three 
days, and was greatly desirous of discovering 
the “ reason why,” of seeing for herself what 
sort of a person the stepmother was, and “ how 
things were going ; ” but her little plan of call- 
ing for May was foiled by May’s joining her 
outside the gate. In a moment, however, she 
saw, with those sharp eyes of hers, that some- 
thing was very much amiss, and in a sympathetic 
tone asked, — 

“ What is it, Maisie ; what is the matter ?” 

“ Matter ! ” With a catch in her breath May 
repeated the brief conversation about the garden- 
party. The reserve of the last few days had 
vanished. Her good resolutions had blown to 
the winds. But it was only to Cathy that she 


20 MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 


spoke directly. Whether Cathy would have 
had the strength to have been silent if May had 
asked her, it is impossible to tell. But May 
did not ask her, — perhaps in her resentment 
she did n’t care, perhaps she did n’t think ; at 
any rate Cathy did not keep silent, and by the 
afternoon recess all the girls knew the story of 
the garden-party as they had heard it from 
Cathy Bond. 

Even Joanna Macy was stirred to indignation 
by this story. 

“ She must be conceited to think the party 
could only be for her. What had May to do 
with getting up a garden-party for her step- 
mother ? ” 

Susy Morris, who heard the indignant tone 
of Joanna’s voice, wanted to know what it 
meant. 

“ Oh, it means,” cried Joanna, ‘‘that Cathy 
was n’t far wrong about the stepmother ; ” and 
then Joanna repeated the story as she had 
heard it from Cathy, that May had asked her 
father that morning if she might have the 
garden-party he had promised her, and that her 
stepmother had interfered and said that, though 
she was much obliged to May for thinking of 
giving a garden-party for her, that it was de- 


MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 21 


cidedly too late for it, and that she hoped it 
would not be thought of any more ! “ The 

idea,’^ concluded Joanna, “ of her taking it for 
granted that the party must be for her, — that 
May, a girl of fourteen, would think of getting 
up any kind of a party for her ! I never heard 
anything so conceited. Well ?” as Susy’s small 
face began to wrinkle up with a puzzled frown, 
“ say it out, Susy, whatever it is ! ” 

“ My cousin — ” 

Joanna shouted with laughter. 

“ Oh, Susy, that cousin of yours ! ” 

But Susy went on : “ My cousin was n’t but 
fifteen, and she asked her father to make a 
sailing-party for her stepmother. Perhaps May’s 
stepmother thought that May was just asking 
for the party in the same way, as a kind of wel- 
come, you know. She might have misunder- 
stood, or she might not have heard the whole, 
— don’t you see ? ” 

“ No, I don’t see. They were all on the 
piazza, talking ; and May had distinctly asked 
her father if she might give to the school-girls 
the garden-party that he had promised that she 
might. Now, Miss Susy, what have you to 
say?” 

Nothing, only it does seem queer, if all this 


22 MAY BARTLETT'S STEPMOTHER. 


was said right out before the stepmother., that she 
should have thought the party was for her, and 
should have thanked May. When she did that, 
why did n’t May tell her how it was ; or why 
did n’t Mr. Bartlett ? ” 

“ Oil, Susy, you will make a first-class lawyer 
if you live to grow up,” was Joanna’s laughing 
reply to this. But though Joanna laughed, 
Susy’s words set her to thinking that perhaps 
there was a mistake somewhere, and suddenly 
she thought of something her mother had said 
to her once when she had repeated an unkind 
story to her : “ My dear, a story twice told is 
two stories ; and three times told, the truth is 
pretty well lost sight of.” 

But when Joanna tried to take this ground 
with the girls, she could get no hearing, for 
Cathy Bond was a power at the Hillside school, 
with her quick sympathies, and her quick glib 
way of expressing them. To May this quick 
glib way had always been attractive; it was 
still more so now, when she found it ranged so 
warmly on her side. Yet if she had heard 
Cathy’s repetition of her account of the garden- 
party conversation, I think she would have 
been a little startled, but she did not hear it, 
and so matters went on from bad to worse ; 


MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 23 


that is, the story grew and grew, and one girl 
and another took up what they called poor May’s 
cause, and looked, if they did not speak, their 
pity, until May became such a centre of interest 
that she could not but be affected by it, could 
not but feel that she had reason to be very 
unhappy. Yet in spite of this feeling, there 
wasn’t so much outward indication of it as 
one might have expected. 

Joanna remarked upon this one day to Cathy, 
declaring that, for her part, she thought that 
May seemed to look very cheerful under the 
circumstances. 

“ Cheerful ! ” exclaimed Cathy, tragically. 
“ Why, she ’s just wretched, but she ’s keeping 
up ; you know they are having no end of giddy 
goings-on up there.” 

“Up where ? ” 

“ Why, at the Bartletts’. Lots of people are 
calling ; and it seems that Mrs. Bartlett has any 
quantity of friends and relatives in Boston, and 
they are driving out to see her and having five 
o’clock tea with her, and all that sort of thing.” 

“ And May is in it all ? ” 

“ Why, to be sure. It ’s a trial to her, of 
course ; and it ’s as much as she can do to 
keep up.” 


24 MAY BARTLETTS STEPMOTHER. 


“ A trial to her ! Why is it a trial to her 
asked Joanna, imitating Cathy’s grown-up words 
and ways. 

Cathy flamed up. “ You don’t seem to have 
any feeling, Joanna. Don’t you suppose she 
thinks of her own mother while tliese things 
are going on ? ” 

This was too much for Joanna’s keen common- 
sense, and she laughed outright. 

“ Things going on ! Calling, and drinking tea! 
Oh, Cathy ! ” 

“ Well, but — but — it is n't just ordinary call- 
ing ; it ’s like — like parties,” answered Cathy, 
flushing and stammering. 

“ And has n’t Mr. Bartlett had whist-parties 
and dinner-parties many a time ? ” 

‘‘ They were gentlemen’s parties.” 

“ Well, did n’t May’s Aunt Mary — her 
mother’s own sister — have parties when she 
was staying there ? and,” triumphantly, “ has n’t 
May herself had a birthday-party every year 
since her mother died ? ” 

“ Yes ; but that’s different. This is a stranger 
who comes to take her mother’s place.” 

“ She ’s a stranger to May ; but Mr. Bartlett 
has married this stranger just as he married 
May’s mother.” 


MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER, 25 


“ Yes, and I think it was horrid for him to 
do so.” 

“ Oh, Cathy, lots of people marry again, — 
the nicest and best of people.” 

“ Well, I think it is perfectly dreadful, when 
there are children, to give them a strange 
woman in the place of their mother. It is just 
as selfish as it can be.” 

“ But, Cathy, there are good stepmothers as 
well as bad ones. Why, stepmothers are just 
like other people.” 

“ Yes, before they are stepmothers ; but when 
they step into own mothers’ places, they — 
they — ” 

As Cathy hesitated, Joanna laughingly broke 
in with, “ They become wicked wolves, who are 
all ready to worry and devour their poor vic- 
tims ! ” Cathy could not help joining a little 
in Joanna’s laugh ; but she said, almost in the 
next breath, — 

“ Oh, you can make fun, Joanna, as much as 
you like, but you ’ll never make me believe in 
stepmothers ! ” 

Just when Cathy was saying this, just when 
Joanna was wrinkling up her forehead and 
wanting to say impatiently, “ Oh, you little pig 
of prejudice ! ” — around the corner where they 


26 MAY BARTLETTS STEPMOTHER. 


stood talking, there suddenly appeared a big 
open carriage, full of gayly dressed people. 

“ There she is ! ” whispered Cathy, pointing with 
a nod of her head to a lady who was smilingly 
speaking to the gentleman sitting next to her. 

Joanna craned her neck forward eagerly. 
This was her first glimpse of the stepmother. 

“ Why, she ’s a beauty ! ” she cried out to 
Cathy ; “ and she looks like a girl ! But 
where ’s May, I wonder ? ’’ 

“ Oh, yes; where ’s May ? You see she is n’t 
there. I suppose she was n’t wanted ; there 
was n’t room for her,” answered Cathy, spite- 
fully. 

But presently round the corner they heard 
again a light roll of wheels on the smooth road, 
and there appeared another carriage. It was a 
little yellow wagon, — a village wagon, — and 
in it were May Bartlett and a young girl about 
her own age. May was driving. She looked 
more than cheerful ; she looked as if she was 
enjoying herself very much, and she was so 
occupied that she failed to see her two school 
friends as she drove by. 

Joanna laughed. 

“ That ’s what you call ‘ keeping up,’ I sup- 
pose, Cathy,” she said slyly. 


MAY BARTLETT'S STEPMOTHER. 27 


Cathy did n’t answer. 

“ And she has got the village wagon, after all. 
You were perfectly sure she would n’t get it, 
you know.” 

“ Well, May told me that when she asked her 
father for it, he said he did n’t believe he could 
afford it now, and her stepmother flushed up and 
looked at him so queerly, as if she did n’t like it ; 
and so, of course. May thought that was the end 
of it. But I suppose when he came to think it 
over, he was ashamed not to get it for her.” 

Joanna wrinkled up her forehead again, but 
she kept her thoughts to herself. 


IV. 

Cathy Bond was spending the first vacation 
of the autumn with her “ dear May,” as she had 
been in the habit of calling May since the inti- 
macy that had sprung up between them. 

The girls who lived at a distance from Hill- 
side generally remained at the seminary through 
the shorter vacations. Cathy Bond’s home was 
two days’ journey from the school. The Macy 
sisters and Susy Morris also lived at a distance, 
and the four hitherto had spent their vacations 


28 MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 


together at the seminary. Cathy’s invitation 
had come about in this way : — 

“ I ’m glad I don’t have to spend my vaca- 
tions at the seminary, as some of the girls do,” 
May had happened to say one day to her father. 
Mrs. Bartlett, who was present, had looked up 
and remarked quickly, — 

“ It must be very forlorn for them.” And when 
May had answered with emphasis, “ It is forlorn,” 
Mrs. Bartlett had surprised her by saying, — 

“ Why don’t you invite one of them to spend 
the week with you ? ” 

“ But — but,” May stammered, “ Papa does n’t 
like it.” 

“ Papa does n’t like what ? ” then inquired 
Mr. Bartlett, waking up from his absent- 
mindedness. May explained, and related how 
she had begged for this privilege of hospitality 
before, only to be told that it could n’t be. Her 
father laughed at the recital, and then aston- 
ished her by this speech : — 

“ Oh, well, that was last year ! I could n’t 
have two giddy young things turned loose in the 
house then ; I should have been totally neg- 
lected, if not trampled upon. Now, you see, 
I ’ve somebody to be company for me, while you 
neglect me.” 


MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 29 


“ Oh, Papa ! do you mean that now — ” 

“ Yes ; now, if you like,” nodding and smil- 
ing at her. 

“ And I hope,” said Mrs. Bartlett, smiling 
also, “ that you will invite that pretty, bright- 
faced Cathy Bond.” 

Cathy Bond ! The color in May’s cheeks and 
her embarrassed look showed Mrs. Bartlett that 
something was amiss, and she immediately 
remarked, — 

“ Of course it makes no difference to me, my 
dear, which of your friends you invite ; but I 
remembered this one particularly, and I thought 
her your favorite, from seeing her more with 
you than the others.” 

“ Oh, yes ; yes, she is,” was May’s rather 
confused reply. 

And this is the way it came about that Cathy 
spent the vacation with her “ dear May.” 

“ After she has talked as she has, I should n’t 
think she ’d feel much like going there to 
visit,” Joanna exclaimed indignantly to her 
sister Elsie. And at last something of this 
kind was said to Cathy herself, who retorted 
that she was going to visit May at May’s invita- 
tion, and not the stepmother. Perhaps it was 
this last sharp word that sharpened Cathy’s 


30 MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 


temper, and sent her on her visit with her 
prejudices more alive than ever. 

“That pretty, bright-faced girl,” Mrs. Bart- 
lett had said ; and Cathy was all that, — pretty 
and bright-faced ; but when she sat at table 
that first night of her visit, Mrs. Bartlett felt a 
vague sense of disappointment in her. She had 
seen her only a moment or two at different 
times when she had called upon May, and then 
her prettiness and brightness had impressed 
Mrs. Bartlett very favorably. But as she sat at 
table, there was a sort of forward smartness, a 
too self-possessed, grown-up-ish air in what she 
said and did, to suit fastidious, well-bred people. 

“ Oh, dear,” thought Mrs. Bartlett, “ what a 
pity ! — and such a nice-looking girl ; ” and 
then, “ perhaps this is one reason why May has 
such a forbidding way with her.” 

While these thoughts were passing through 
Mrs. Bartlett’s mind, Cathy with her sharpened 
temper was pluming herself upon her manners, 
and upon taking a stand against the stepmother. 
“ I shall be polite,” she had said to herself : 
“but I shall not be sweet and cordial, and I 
shall let them see that May has a real independ- 
ent friend.” 

Mr. Bartlett, who at first had begun to try 


MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 31 


and make “the little girl,” as he called her, 
feel comfortable by saying pleasant, kind things 
to her, soon gave up his endeavor ; and as he 
did so, he looked at her with one of his queer 
satirical expressions. May caught the look and 
grew hot, then cold. She knew perfectly what 
it meant, — that he was half displeased and half 
amused. What she did not know, was that he 
was thinking just then, What in the world led 
Margaret to suggest that piece of trumpery as a 
visitor for May ? ” But as he ceased his en- 
deavors to make “the little girl comfortable,” 
another idea flashed into his mind. It would 
be a saving grace to let May see, as he could 
make her see, what a second-rate simpleton — 
for so he judged then — this friend was. The 
idea was too tempting not to be acted upon ; 
and suddenly addressing her with a deference 
he might have shown to an older person, he 
drew the girl on to display — as she supposed — 
her knowledge and brilliancy. Instead, how- 
ever, of these qualities, Cathy only displayed 
her foolishness and forwardness, behaving in fact 
in a very second-rate manner indeed. “Oh,” 
thought poor May, “ I would n’t have believed 
that Cathy could go on like this ! Slie can be 
so sensible. And Papa — Papa is too bad.” 


32 MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER, 


She looked appealingly at him, but he did not 
notice her. She then tried to stop Cathy by 
asking her a question about school matters. 
But Cathy would not be stopped. Still she 
rattled on, perking up her little chin, and 
laughing, until May began to feel very much 
ashamed, and to wish that something would 
happen, or somebody would come to the rescue. 
And somebody did come to the rescue ; and this 
somebody was — the stepmother. 

Mrs. Bartlett had been observant of every- 
thing, — of her husband’s ‘‘ mischief,” as she 
termed it, of Cathy’s silliness, and of May’s 
annoyance. 

What possesses Edward,” she thought, “ to 
draw out that child’s absurdities like this?” 
And then she echoed May’s thought, “ It is too 
bad of him.” But like May, she did n’t under- 
stand his motive. Yet if she had understood, 
I think she would have done the same thing. 
And this is what she did. As she saw her hus- 
band, with that look of mischief on his face, 
about to address Miss Cathy again, she turned 
to him with a sudden question relating to an 
important matter in which he was interested. 
His attention once caught, she held it, though 
there was an amused sparkle in his eyes that 


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MAY BARTLETT'S STEPMOTHER. 33 


showed he was perfectly well aware of his wife’s 
purpose. But the purpose was served, and May 
drew a sigh of relief. 

But Cathy was not so well pleased to be thus 
robbed of what she considered such flattering 
attention, and responded rather absently to May’s 
low- voiced attempts to talk with her ; and after 
they had left the table, when May tried to draw 
her into her own special sanctum, — a charming 
room full of books and pictures and games, — 
Cathy said decidedly, — 

“ Oh, let’s go into the parlor; I think it’s so 
pleasant where there ’s an open fire.” 

But if she fancied she was again to receive 
the attention that had so flattered her, she was 
mistaken. Mr. Bartlett became absorbingly in- 
terested in a book, from which he now and then 
read passages to his wife. He took not the 
slightest notice of ‘‘ the children,” as he would 
have called them. Disappointed by this neglect, 
Cathy looked about her for some amusement; 
and as she saw the open piano in the farther 
corner of the large room, she whispered to May 
that they might try one of their duets. 

Oh, no, no ! not now ; we ’ll try to-morrow,” 
poor May whispered back. But Cathy could 
not or would not understand, and saying care- 
3 


34 MAY BARTLETT’S STEPMOTHER. 


lessly, “ Well, let me look at the music,” led 
the way to the instrument. Once there, she did 
not content herself with looking ; she must just 
try whether she could remember this or that 
she had taken for a lesson. “This or that” 
turned out to be a few bars of various composi- 
tions, not of the highest order, and played with- 
out particular skill. May stole a glance down 
the room at her father. Mr. Bartlett was fond 
of music, and had some knowledge of it, and a 
cultivated taste. May saw him twist his mouth 
into a comical smile, and shake his head ruefully 
as he looked at Cathy. 

“ Come, let us play ‘ Halma ; ’ I have a new 
board,” she whispered to Cathy. 

But Cathy just then struck into a gay waltz, 
and banged away with all her might. As she 
played the last bars, Mrs. Bartlett approached. 

“ That was one of the Strauss waltzes, was n’t 
it?” she asked Cathy politely; and then she 
began to speak of the great Peace Jubilee in 
Boston, when Johann Strauss had come all the 
way from Austria to play, and to lead the great 
orchestra in the Colosseum that was erected for 
the jubilee. 

“ I was about your age then,” she said, look- 
ing at Cathy, “ and I never had had such a per- 


MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 35 


fectly lovely time as I had then.” As she went 
on describing that fairy-like structure, with its 
glass roof, covering so many acres, and the 
bands from England and Germany and France 
and Austria and Ireland, that came over to 
America to play their own music in celebration 
of the peace of the world. May leaned forward, 
spell-bound by the description and all it brought 
before her; and even Cathy forgot herself for 
the time. After this, Mr. Bartlett called 
out, — 

“ Margaret, play something for us ; ” and 
Margaret played some beautiful selections from 
Schumann and Beethoven, and then, at the last, 
she sang a good-night song by Robert Franz, 
and with the concluding words, “ Good-night, 
good-night,” she rose, smiling, from her seat ; 
and as at that instant the little clock on the 
mantel struck half-past nine. May knew that it 
was time to go to bed, and rose also, expecting 
Cathy to follow her example ; but Cathy hung 
back, and began to speak. 

“ Do you know any waltzes that you could 
play for us to dance, Mrs. Bartlett ? ” she asked. 
Before Mrs. Bartlett could reply, Mr. Bartlett 
had come forward, and was saying, “ Good-night, 
children ; ” and in the next moment he was 


36 MAY BARTLETT'S STEPMOTHER, 


asking his wife to play a Hungarian march for 
him. 

May was only too glad to get away. Once 
upstairs by themselves^ Cathy would be herself 
again, she reasoned. But there were several 
things rankling in Cathy’s mind, not the least of 
which was that “ Good-night, children ; ” and 
when May, with a little skip of relief, entered 
the chamber, and said cheerfully, — 

“ I don’t feel a bit sleepy ; do you, Cathy ? ” 
Cathy answered sharply, — 

“ I ? No ; 1 could have waltzed for half an 
hour.” 

The color flew to May’s face. “ But, Cathy, 
it is half-past nine, half an hour later than I 
usually go to bed, and you told me that nine 
was the seminary hour.” 

“Well, this isn’t the seminary. I didn’t 
expect to visit a school,” sarcastically. 

May had to remember that Cathy was her 
guest, and that she must be polite to her, so she 
said, — 

“I’m so sorry, Cathy. But — she — will 
play for us to dance to-morrow, I dare say.” 

“ ‘ She’ — oh, that ’s what you call her ? I ’ve 
wondered what it was ! What do you call her 
when you speak to her ? ” 


MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 37 


‘‘I — I — don’t say anything. I wait until 
she is looking at me. I — ” 

Cathy went off into a giggle. 

“Oh, it’s too funny. I must tell the girls 
when I get back that you only speak of her as 
‘ she,’ and wait until she looks at you before — ” 
“ Oh, don’t, Cathy ! ” 

“ Don’t what ? ” 

“Don’t make fun — like that — to the girls.” 
“ Well, I should just like to know what has 
come over you. May Bartlett ; but I know well 
enough. She has got the upper hand of you in 
your own home, that ’s clear.” 

The color in May’s face deepened. 

“ How can you talk so foolishly, Cathy ? ” 

“ I ’m not talking foolishly. I saw it at the 
very first, when we were at the tea-table. What 
did she do when your father was so nice and pleas- 
ant to me but stop him and make him talk to her ! 
And then she would n’t let him come near us 
in the parlor, but came herself after a while, and 
told us stories about that old jubilee. I’ve heard 
my mother tell about it a hundred times.” 

“ Oh, Cathy ! you don’t know — ” 

May stopped. She could n’t tell Cathy that 
she had been saved twice: once from making 
herself ridiculous, and again from being an 


38 MAY BARTLETT* S STEPMOTHER. 


annoyance, by — yes — by the stepmother. And 
it was the stepmother who had encouraged 
her visit, who had spoken of her as pretty 
and bright-faced, when Cathy had been so 
bitter against her, and, worst of all, at the 
very time when she had been really doing her a 
kindness — but what was it Cathy was saying ? 

“ I do know one thing. May, that you are an- 
other girl here at home from what you are at 
school. You don’t seem to remember what 
you ’ve told me about the garden-party, and the 
wagon, and everything. You to tell me not to 
talk to the girls ! ” 

May began to feel very angry, and luckily very 
small too ; the latter feeling prevented the out- 
burst of the former. How could she admonish 
Cathy? There was a silence for a few minutes, 
while Cathy, with an injured look, made her 
preparations for bed. By and by May said, with 
an effort, — 

‘‘ She wanted you to come.” 

“ She wanted me ; ” a little rasping laugh, and 
then, “ What do you mean by that? ” 

May explained by relating the conversation 
where Mrs. Bartlett had spoken of her so pleas- 
antly. The angry lines relaxed a little in 
Cathy’s face, and presently she said easily, — 


MAY BARTLETT'S STEPMOTHER. 39 


“ Well, it was never my affair, you know. I 
never knew anything about her, except what you 
told me, and I ’m sure I hope she will turn out 
nice for your sake.” 

May struggled with her temper. She felt put 
in the wrong on every side. But even if she 
yielded to the wild impulse within her, what 
could she say ? If Cathy had encouraged her to 
talk against her stepmother, she had likewise 
encouraged Cathy ! 

There was nothing to be said then, and 
nothing to be done, except to listen to Cathy 
with what patience she might ; but Cathy her- 
self presently turned from the subject to some- 
thing else, and a little later, all unkind thoughts 
were lost for the time in slumber. 


V. 

“ Play for you to dance ? Certainly I will. 
But, May, how would you like to invite the other 
girls who are spending their vacation at the 
seminary to join a little party here on Saturday 
evening ? ” 

“ But there are not enough to make a party.” 

Mrs. Bartlett smiled. 


40 MAY BARTLETrS STEPMOTHER. 


“ But I said ‘ join a party/ I thought I would 
invite some of my friends in Boston with their 
young people, if you would like it, and then we 
might have enough for a dancing-party. Would 
you like it ?” 

May looked up. There was something in the 
wistful tone of this “ Would you like it ? ” that 
made her ashamed of her ungracious hesitation ; 
yet Cathy’s sneering accusation of the night be- 
fore, “ You are another girl here at home from 
what you are at school,” had been rankling in 
her mind. She must prove herself ; she must 
show Cathy that she was the same, and so in- 
stead of responding at once as she felt, with 
delight at the project, she said after that hesi- 
tation, in a cold tone, — 

“ Yes, I should like it very well.” And then 
Cathy, who was standing by, sprang forward and 
exclaimed : 

‘‘ Oh, Mrs. Bartlett, I think it would be just 
lovely, and I ’m sure I shall like it above all 
things ! ” 

Again May felt herself put in the wrong and 
misunderstood, and again she had to struggle 
with her temper. This conversation had taken 
place on the morning after Cathy’s arrival, 
which had been upon Friday, the beginning of 


MAY BARTLETTS STEPMOTHER. 41 


the vacation. The party proposed was for the 
next Saturday. 

“The only thing that troubles me is that I 
haven’t a light dress to wear, — I’ve only my 
garnet cashmere here at Hillside,” Cathy re- 
marked, when she and May were alone to- 
gether. 

“Oh, but we are so nearly of a size you 
can wear one of mine ; I have two white wool 
dresses,” May answered readily. 

When the dresses were produced and tried on, 
Cathy found that the latest-made dress suited 
her best. 

“ But, Cathy, don’t you think it is too long ? 
It comes almost to the floor upon you. I am 
taller, you know.” 

“ Oh, no, ’t is n’t a bit too long. I like it,” 
Cathy replied hastily. And so the matter was 
dismissed, Cathy, after removing the dress, 
hanging it up in the closet with a pleased air. 
The week sped by very quickly, and for the 
most part smoothly. Cathy evidently enjoyed 
herself, though she found that Mr. Bartlett was 
no longer disposed to treat her as a grown-up 
young lady ; indeed, that he took but scant notice 
of her. The long drives, however, in the little 
village wagon in the bright early days of winter 


42 MAY BARTLETT'S STEPMOTHER. 


that were like autumn, the trips to Boston, to a 
matinee performance of “ Little Lord Fauntle- 
roy,” and to visit one or two picture galleries, 
filled the short days to overflowing. On several 
occasions during this time, Cathy had said 
things that had made May exceedingly uncom- 
fortable. Once, at the beginning of the prepara- 
tions for the little party, she suddenly asked, 
“ Don’t you help, when anything of this kind is 
going on ? ” 

“ Help ! how ? ” May inquired in a bewildered 
tone. 

“Why, with the notes of invitation for one 
thing. I always do that part at home.” 

“ No, I never thought of it. When Aunt 
Mary lived with us I was too young, and she 
left us only two years ago.” 

“ Well, you do have an easy time. May, I 
must say,” Cathy had responded to this. May 
did not care to ask Cathy for any more of 
her opinions on the subject ; a sense of hurt 
pride was beginning to affect her, — to make 
her draw back within herself, and to feel that 
Cathy was going too far. Once she would have 
told Cathy this, would have told anybody who 
liad spoken to her in such a fashion ; but now 
the consciousness that she herself had opened 


MAY BARTLETT'S STEPMOTHER. 43 


the way for Cathy to be so free with her, 
silenced her. 

Yet in spite of some annoyances like this, the 
week ran rapidly toward its end, and Saturday 
morning came. Just after luncheon Mrs. Bart- 
lett said to the girls, — 

“ Had n’t you two girls better try on your 
dresses now, and see if everything is all right ? 
They may need new ruching in the neck, or 
some little changes. I always try on a dress 
after it has n’t been worn for a while, before the 
last minute, as we used to say at home.” 

May started up readily ; Cathy was not so 
ready. 

‘‘ But I ’ve tried the one I ’m to wear, Mrs. 
Bartlett,” she said. 

“ Yes, I know, — all by yourselves ; but don’t 
you want to let me see if everything is right. If 
it is n’t I can let Julie attend to it at once.” 

May was already upstairs, and Cathy slowly 
followed her. 

As Mrs. Bartlett entered the chamber she saw 
her stepdaughter standing arrayed in a very 
pretty white gown, much too short in the skirt. 

‘‘ There, now, my dear, here is something to 
be done. You have grown so tall, your skirt 
must be lengthened.” She busied herself for 


44 MAY BARTLETT'S STEPMOTHER. 


several moments in taking measurements, and 
then turned to Cathy. 

“ Why, my dear, you both have made a mis- 
take. This is as much too long for you as the 
one May has on is too short for her ; ” and she 
went forward, smilingly, ready to help remedy 
this “ mistake.” But Cathy stepped back. 

“ No, there is no mistake, Mrs. Bartlett. I — 
my party-dress at home is as long as this. I 
like it.” 

“But — with your hair down in a braid, it 
hardly seems to suit you. The skirt is as 
long as mine, I think,” Mrs. Bartlett remarked 
quietly. 

“ Oh, well, I shall put my hair up to-night. 
I often do at home,” quickly responded Cathy. 
“ Besides, the other dress would be short for me 
too. I ’m nearly as tall as May.” 

As she spoke Cathy walked across the room 
to the mirror, and as she did so the difference 
in height allowed May to look easily over her 
head. Mrs. Bartlett caught May’s eye at that 
moment, and laughed ! This was very undigni- 
fied, no doubt, but Mrs. Bartlett was only an 
older girl herself, and the whole situation had 
suddenly become irresistibly ludicrous to her. 
May, too, in that moment, felt her indignation 


MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 45 


at Cathy change to merriment ; and as Cathy 
wheeled about with a look of questioning, she 
surprised an exchange of glances that both mor- 
tified and offended her. 



Cathy adorns herself for the party. 


But with the easy readiness of her greater 
experience, Mrs. Bartlett instantly said, — 

It was so funny, my dear, to see May in that 
ridiculously short skirt overtopping you that I 


46 MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 


had to laugh ; ” and then turning briskly to 
May, she treated the matter as of no conse- 
quence by saying, — 

“ Now, May, if you will come with me to the 
sewing-room, Julie will attend to your skirt.” 

The two girls saw little of each other after 
this, until it was time to dress for the evening. 
It was an early party, on account of the young 
people, and May had been occupied with Julie 
most of tlie afternoon. 

When, therefore, the two met later in the 
day, something of Cathy’s irritation had been 
overlaid by other things ; but it had only been 
overlaid, and May knew, by the rather artificial 
manner in which Cathy tried to be cordial and 
natural, that she had not forgotten. Specially 
was this noticeable when May donned the gown 
that Julie had altered. 

“ Oh, does n’t it look nice, though ? ” cried 
Cathy, in a slightly strained and nervous tone. 

“ It does very well,” was all that May could 
reply ; for in fact the gown did not look particu- 
larly nice, spite of J ulie’s efforts. The length- 
ening process showed in the white surface, and 
even the broad sash did not conceal that the 
waist also had been a little outgrown. Julie, 
who had been sent in by Mrs. Bartlett to assist 


MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 47 


the girls at their toilets, turned to Cathy at last, 
saying in her French-English, — 

“ Now if Mees Cathy ’s ready for me, I make 
her ready.” 

Cathy still waited. Then, as if struck by a 
sudden thought, she cried, — 

“ Oh, May, will you see if I can have some of 
that red kalmia from the greenhouse instead of 
the daisies ? ” 

May took the hint, — Cathy wanted to get 
rid of her. It was on the stroke of the hour 
for which the guests had been bidden when 
they next met. 

“ What can your friend be about ? ” Mrs. 
Bartlett asked with some concern as the min- 
utes sped by. May knew no more than her 
stepmother. She only knew that the bunch of 
kalmia had been sent up to Cathy half an hour 
ago. 

“Perhaps you had better run up and see if 
she is waiting for you to come for her,” Mrs. 
Bartlett then suggested. But just as May 
started, the clock struck eight, and at the same 
time the door bell rang. At that very moment 
a white vision appeared on the parlor threshold. 
It was a slender young lady in a white dress, 
with her dark hair piled in a crown-like coil 


48 MAY BARTLETT’S STEPMOTHER. 


upon the top of her head. At the neck, a cluster 
of scarlet flowers began, and widening out in a 
bright mass of color, drooped in long sprays to 
the waist-line. Both May and her stepmother 
looked at this vision at first with surprise. Was 
it a guest whose arrival they had not heard ? 
The white vision stepped forward; the red 
mouth above the red flowers smiled. 

“ Why, Cathy ! ” cried May. Yes, it was 
Cathy. In her long white dress, with her 
dusky hair gathered up, and all those scarlet 
kalmias, she looked like a young lady, and a 
very pretty one, it must be confessed. Cathy 
was quite aware of the effect that she produced. 
She saw surprised admiration in May’s glance. 
It was not so easy to read Mrs. Bartlett’s face, 
but in the smile of recognition Miss Cathy saw 
no sign of disapproval. 

The ring at the door-bell was that of the little 
party from the seminary. When they came 
into the parlor, Joanna, as the eldest of the 
three, advanced first, Elsie and Susy shyly fol- 
lowing. All three were dressed somewhat alike, 
in different shades of dark-blue cashmere. If, 
as they observed the white-robed figures before 
them, they might have felt a little shade of 
girlish regret and mortification that they too 


MAY BARTLETT’S STEPMOTHER. 49 


were not so whitely clothed, the warm reception 
that they received from Mrs. Bartlett and May 
went far to reassure them. None of the party at 
first recognized Cathy. When they did, Susy 
forgot her shyness for the moment in her 
astonishment, and cried out in that little soft 
odd voice of hers, — 

“ Oh, it ’s Cathy in a fancy costume, — how 
funny ! ” 

The rest of the girls laughed, — that is, all hut 
Cathy ; and Susy, noting the vexed expression 
of her face, added, — 

“ I did n’t mean by ‘ funny ’ that it was n’t 
nice too.” 

The girls laughed again, Cathy joining this 
time. As for Mrs. Bartlett, she thought, — 

“ What a dear, quaint little darling it is ! If 
only she had been May’s visitor ! ” 

But as the other guests began to arrive, there 
was little opportunity to indulge in regrets of 
any kind. The guests were some of them 
strangers to May even ; they were old friends 
and acquaintances of Mrs. Bartlett with their 
young sisters, or daughters, and their brothers. 

“ Oh, is n’t it nice to have real partners ! ” ex- 
claimed Cathy, as she saw the latter enter. 

Joanna, to whom she spoke, laughed, and said 


50 MAY BAHTLETTS STEPMOTHER. 


she thought she was real enough whenever she 
had been Cathy’s partner. 

“Oh, but you know what I mean, — gentle- 
men partners,” pettishly responded Cathy ; and 
Joanna had responded to this, — 

“ I call them boys.” 

Two violins, a harp, and a cornet, in a small 
room leading out of the parlors, made music for 
the dancers. All the girls entered into the 
dancing with great zest, Cathy more than the 
rest. When May had first recognized her, in 
the long dress and piled-up hair, she had felt 
such a thrill of admiration that all her old 
belief and regard, which had been sorely shaken 
within the last few days, revived. In fact, 
Cathy looked so much like a splendid grown-up 
young lady then, that to criticise her seemed 
an impertinence ; and introducing this splendid 
young lady to one and another. May had a feel- 
ing of pride in her ; and when she saw with what 
a self-possessed air these introductions were re- 
ceived, she was sure that there was not one of 
those Boston girls who had nicer manners. 

The dancing was in the long wide hall, as 
well as in the parlors. Cathy seemed to prefer 
the hall, and May found herself in the parlor, 
separated from her as the evening went on ; and 


MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 51 


now and then she would wonder whether Cathy 
was having a good time. May herself was hav- 
ing a delightful time. She had forgotten all 
about her dress being short in the waist, and 
showing where it had been let down; slie had 
forgotten everything that was disagreeable, in- 
deed, when she suddenly became conscious that 
the music was greatly accelerated in speed, and 
that over and above the music there seemed to 
be a good deal of noise, — the sound of voices 
and laughter. 

She was vaguely wondering what it meant, 
when she heard one of the boy strangers from 
town say to another, with a laugh, — 

“ They ’re rushing things out there in the hall, 
are n’t they ? ” And the other answered, — 

“ It ’s that seminary girl. She ’s set them all 
a-going. I saw her speak to the musicians just 
now.” 

That seminary girl ! Who, who could they 
mean ? Just then the final quadrille change was 
called, and the moment she was free. May dashed 
out into the hall. But the music, which had 
ceased for a second, had struck up again into 
a wild jig tune ; and there was Cathy, her 
hair flying, her laugh sounding, leading off 
down the polished floor, almost on a run, to 


52 MAY BARTLETTS STEPMOTHER. 


the jig tune, with one of the older boys for her 
partner. 

“ Margaret, if you don’t stop that little hoyden, 
I will ! ” May here overheard her father say. 
The next instant she saw her stepmother walk 
rapidly past, and in another instant the music 
came to an abrupt close. 

Cathy, in her mad speed, at that instant met 
Mrs. Bartlett face to face as she was leaving the 
music-room. 

“ Oh, Mrs. Bartlett,” she broke forth, “ how 
could you stop our fun ? ” 

Hush, my dear,” began Mrs. Bartlett ; but 
Cathy, wild with her fun, as she called it, inter- 
rupted with a pleading and protesting, — plead- 
ing for “ just one more swing,” and protesting 
generally in a foolish, flippant little manner, 
full of vanity and silliness, with a notion that 
she was behaving in a very young-ladyish style, 
and attracting the admiration of everybody about 
her, when she was attracting, instead," that very 
unenviable attention which expresses itself in 
astonished stares and questions of : “ Who is 
that little hoyden ? ” If she had turned, as she 
stood there protesting, she would have seen the 
master of the house approaching with an omi- 
nous frown upon his face ; but she did not turn, 


MAY BARTLETT’S STEPMOTHER. 53 


and she only saw the mistress of the house 
shake her head at some one, and then heard 
her say, — 

“ Come, Cathy, it is nearly supper-time, and 
I want you to go upstairs and let Julie put your 
hair and dress in order.” As Mrs. Bartlett said 
this, she fixed her eyes upon Cathy with a per- 
fectly kind but a compelling gaze, and the girl 
knew that she must obey ; but there was in her 
heart a blind, unreasoning fury as she did so. 

May, full of shame and disappointment, shrank 
back into the shadow of the portiere near her 
father, but unseen by him. It was then she 
heard her stepmother say, — 

“ No, Edward, I could n’t let you speak to her. 
You must remember she is only a child, — a 
wilful, spoiled child, — and her head is a little 
turned by her high spirits, and her prettiness, 
and the effect she seemed to produce.” 

“ Margaret, you would find excuses for any- 
body.” 

“ I would certainly find excuses for such a 
mere child as this.” 

They moved away together, but May still re- 
mained behind the portiere, thinking, thinking, 
thinking. This was the third time her step- 
mother had shielded Cathy, — Cathy, who from 


54 MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 


the start had been against her, had said hard 
things, had liad hard thoughts of her, had done 
her best to injure her. But who had encouraged 
Cathy ? Again this question confronted May. 

“ May, is it you, my dear ? ” 

Somebody was pushing the portiere aside. It 
was her stepmother. 

“ Oh, it is you. Will you run up, my dear, 
and see if Cathy is ready to come down. I can’t 
think what keeps her so long. It could n’t have 
taken Julie more than five minutes to put her 
dress in order.” 

As May sped on her errand her thoughts 
sped with her, tormenting her with fears and 
regrets. At the door of her room she paused 
a moment, with the fears increasing, for there 
was a confusion of voices, Cathy’s rising above 
the others. 

“ No ; I shall not go down again ! — to be sent 
away like a baby — do you think — ” 

“Oh, Cathy! Cathy! you must come down; 

I ’ve been sent for you,” cried May, as she 
entered the room. 

“ I shall not ! ” 

“ How silly you are, Cathy ! Of course you ’ll 
go down.” 

It was Joanna who spoke. As May crossed 


MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 55 


the threshold she saw that Joanna and Susy 
were both standing by the dressing-table. 

“ There ’s no ‘ of course ’ about it/’ Cathy 
retorted sharply, “ and you may call me silly if 
you like, Joanna Macy, but I should just like to 
ask you how you would feel to be treated like a 
baby, — sent off to have your hair brushed and 
your face washed, right in the middle of a 
dance,! ” 

“ Hair brushed and face washed ! How you 
do go on, Cathy ! But it was n’t in the middle 
of a dance. The cotillon had ended, and it was 
you who started that other thing ; I saw you, 
and I should have thought Mrs. Bartlett would 
have been disgusted. It was horrid of you, a 
school-girl like you, to be so forward. I was 
so ashamed I did n’t know what to do.” 

“ A school-girl like me 1 I’m fifteen, Joanna 
Macy.” 

“ What’s fifteen ? We are all nothing but a 
pack of school-girls, anyway.” 

“ And to be stopped like that, and sent off, and 
your partner — a young gentleman — standing 
with you ! ” 

“ Oh, that ’s it I A young gentleman ! That 
Everett boy ! ” and Joanna laughed scornfully. 

Cathy’s rage did n’t cool at Joanna’s speech. 


56 MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 


and she was about to retort again, when May 
broke in with her entreaty, — 

Oh, do come, Cathy ! I have been sent for 
you.” 

“ Yes, she sent you, I suppose,” with a sneer- 
ing emphasis upon the pronoun. 

“ Cathy, you are very, very unjust. If you 
did but know it, she has been very kind to you,” 
cried May. 

“ She ! She ! She ! ” Cathy mockingly re- 
peated. “ That is what May calls this step- 
mother of whom all at once she is so fond ! ” 
and then, in a few sharp, stinging words, Cathy 
let loose the irritation that had been accuniulat- 
ing from her hurt vanity for the last few days. 
In these words were reproach and accusation, 
which had enough truth in them to make it very 
difficult for May to control herself ; but with the 
reproach and accusation against herself were 
mixed at last such comment and criticism of her 
stepmother as not only May, but the two other 
girls, felt to be both unfair and impertinent. 

‘•How can you, Cathy?” burst out Joanna, 
indignantly. “ Mrs. Bartlett has been lovely to 
you, — to us all, I’m sure. If you had to 
sputter out that silly prejudice against step- 
mothers at first, you might stop now. I should 
think you ’d harmed May about enough.” 


MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 57 


“ I harmed May ! May hated her stepmother 
irom the first. It was May who told me — ” 
Her voice suddenly ceased as she caught the 
expression of horror in May’s eyes, — May, who 
was looking beyond her at somebody or some- 
thing, — who — what could it be ? 


VI. 

Cathy turned, and there, between the por- 
tieres that separated them from the next room, 
stood — Mrs. Bartlett! How much had she 
heard ? She had heard enough. Her cheeks 
were scarlet ; her eyes were bright with unshed 
tears. Silent from horror in the first moment, 
in the next, as she saw that look of hurt. May’s 
heart rose up in one pitiful, pitying, appealing 
cry, and that cry was, — 

“ Oh, Mamma ! Mamma 1 ” 

Mrs. Bartlett lifted her head with a quick 
start ; she began to speak : “ May, I — ” then 
her voice broke, and the tears that had been 
withheld overflowed. 

Just here, “ Margaret, Margaret, where are 
you all ? ” Mr. Bartlett was heard calling im- 
patiently as he approached from the other room. 


58 MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 


Margaret dried her eyes with a swift move- 
ment, and with an entreating, “ Come, girls, 
come with me,” turned away. 

Thoroughly subdued and not a little fright- 
ened, Cathy made no further attempt at delay, 
but followed the others as they obeyed Mrs. 
Bartlett’s entreaty. 

Going down the stairs, Susy, pressing close 
to Joanna, whispered softly, — 

“ Joanna, did you notice May called her step- 
mother ‘ Mamma,’ and did you notice her step- 
mother’s face ? She cried, but there was a little 
smile there ; did you notice, Joanna ? ” 

Joanna squeezed Susy’s hand for reply. She 
had noticed, but she fancied no one else had 
noticed. 

How the party ended. May could scarcely have 
told you. Everything was like a bad dream 
after this, and she moved about mechanically 
in the supper-room, answering questions, now 
and then seeing that some one was served, but 
taking nothing herself ; once or twice she saw 
her stepmother looking at her, but she could 
not meet the glance. Cathy took things more 
easily. Back again among the lights, the 
flowers, and the young people, her spirits re- 
turned in a measure, though with a wholesome 


MAY BARTLETT’S STEPMOTHER. 59 


difference of restraint. May observed her ease 
with astonishment. She could think of nothing 
but that dreadful talk upstairs, especially of 
that last sentence which her stepmother had 
overheard. And how much more had been 
overheard ? 

All the instincts of a lady were beginning to 
work in May’s mind, and to fill her with self- 
disgust and shame. She felt like a little traitor 
in her own household, — a traitor to her father, 
and an ungenerous enemy to her father’s wife ; 
an ungenerous enemy from the first, when she 
had wilfully misunderstood, and — yes, wilfully 
misrepresented the matter of the garden-party. 
Then one by one her other “ grievances ” came 
up, “ grievances ” that she had made much of 
and confided to Cathy ! Oh, those confidences 
to Cathy ! They reminded her of the old 
mythological story of the dragon’s teeth that 
Cadmus blindly sowed. They had come up 
like armed men to destroy her. 

It had been part of the arrangement, when 
Cathy had been permitted to spend her vacation 
at the Bartletts’, that she should return on 
Saturday afternoon to the seminary, that she 
might be all ready for school duties upon Mon- 
day. The party had been the excuse for ex- 


60 MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 


tending the hour of return to evening. Botli 
Cathy and May, at the beginning of the week, 
had urged, but without effect, that the visit 
might extend to Monday morning. Now both 
felt a sense of relief that they were to separate 
that night. Cathy, as usual, was the easier of 
the two, as the final good-byes were said. Her 
glib tongue did not falter even when she faced 
Mrs. Bartlett, though, to her credit be it said, 
a deep blush suffused her cheeks as that lady 
came forward with a kindly courtesy the girl 
knew she did not deserve to receive. As for 
May, the hardest time of all was when the last 
carriage drove away and she was left alone with 
her father and his wife. Her father would be 
sure to say something about Cathy’s behavior, 
though, thanks to her stepmother, she knew he 
had heard nothing of what had occurred up- 
stairs. Perhaps, however, she could escape. 
It was a late hour for her, and she would say 
good-night in the hall and run up to bed. She 
was half-way up the stairway when Mr. Bartlett 
called out quickly, — 

“ May ! ” 

She stopped suddenly, her heart beating vio- 
lently, her limbs trembling. The next moment 
she started backward, stumbled, and — fell. 


MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 61 


“ My dear ! ” and her father sprang forward, 
and lifted her in his arms. She lay there quite 
still and very pale. “Are you hurt?” She 
shook her head, smiled a little, and tried to 
help herself. As she did so she cried out with 
pain, — 

“ Oh, my foot ! ” She had sprained her 
ankle. 

“ Send for Mrs. Marks, Margaret,” Mr. Bart- 
lett said, as he carried May into her chamber. 

“ Mrs. Marks went td bed an hour ago, Ed- 
ward, with a sick headache ; but if it is a 
sprain, I know all about a sprain, and if you 
will trust me ” — Margaret paused an instant — 
“ you and May,” and she looked down upon 
May with questioning eyes. 

“ Of course we ’ll trust you ; we ’re only too 
glad to, aren’t we, Maisie?” 

May gave a shy assent in a faint “ yes,” yet 
there was an expression in her face that did not 
escape Mrs. Bartlett’s eyes. It was a^i expres- 
sion of dread mixed with shame. But ignoring 
all this, she set about her work of relief in a 
pleasant, easy manner, sending Julie for hot 
water and bandages, then softly manipulating 
the sprained ankle, with a touch both sure and 
skilful. There was something in this touch, deli- 


62 MAY BARTLETTS STEPMOTHER. 


cate and firm, that brought up to May, by sheer 
force of contrast, Mrs. Marks’s heavy-handed 
care. The light movement, too, the soft-voiced 
orders, the ease of everything, — all were so 
different from Mrs. Marks’s bustling ways, her 
step that shook the room, her incessant talk of 
pity and question and anxiety, whenever an 
accident put any one under her ministrations. 

By degrees May lost something of that con- 
scious feeling of dread and shame ds she lay 
there. Even when Julie left the room for the 
night, and May found herself quite alone with 
her stepmother, the dread did not return, and 
the keen feeling of shame was softened by a 
sense of sorrow and humility for all that she had 
thought and said. It was just when this feeling 
was strong within her that her stepmother, turn- 
ing down the light, approached the bed with the 
words, — 

“ There, my dear, I have put this stand be- 
side you,* with a bell upon it, and if you need me, 
you have only to ring, and I shall hear you and 
come to you. You say your ankle does not pain 
you very much now ? ” 

Not nearly as much, — just a little.” 

“ Well, I shall be in the next room to you, 
and can come to you in a moment if you need 
anything.” 


MAY BARTLETTS STEPMOTHER. 


63 


“ In the next room ? ” May inquired with 
surprise. 

“ Yes, I shall sleep on the lounge there to- 
night to be near you.” 

May looked up quickly, and gave a little ex- 
clamatory “ Oh ! ” 

“ What is it, my dear ? ” asked Mrs. Bartlett, 
bending over her. 

“ Nothing,” very faintly. 

It was then, with a final adjustment of the 
bed-clothing, that her stepmother, turning to go, 
said gently, — 

“ Good-night, my dear ; ” and May, closing 
her eyes, answered almost in a whisper, — 

“ Good-night — Mamma.” 

In the next instant she felt the touch of soft, 
warm lips upon her forehead. She could not 
speak. She lay quite still. When she opened 
her eyes, she was alone. 

On Monday morning word was sent to the 
seminary that Miss Bartlett had sprained her 
ankle and would not be able to attend school 
for a fortnight at least. 

Of course Cathy would be the first to go and 
see May, thought the girls. But Cathy seemed 
to be in no haste to go. She even excused 
herself by saying that she was not well, when 


64 MAY BARTLETT’S STEPMOTHER. 


Professor Ingalls proposed that she should take 
a message for him to Mrs. Bartlett. And so it 
came about that Joanna and Susy were May’s 
first callers. It was Mrs. Bartlett who received 
the visitors, and who went up to announce them 
to May. It happened that she did not mention 
their names as she went into the chamber, that 
she only said, — 

“ Well, my dear, two of your school friends 
have come to cheer you up.” 

“ Oh, I can’t — I can’t see Cathy — just now,” 
May cried excitedly. 

“But it isn’t Cathy; it is Joanna, and that 
quaint little girl — I forget her name,” Mrs. 
Bartlett answered quietly. 

“Oh, Susy ! ” And when Joanna and Susy 
went into the room the happy relief in May’s 
heart shone in her face, and gave her greeting 
an added warmth. 

By and by the girls fell to talking of the 
party, of the “ good time ” they had had, and 
by and by in this talk, tliat last half-hour — that 
bad time that had so spoiled the “ good ” — 
was brought up, and Joanna exclaimed vehe- 
mently, — 

“ I think that Cathy Bond would spoil any- 
thing. She ’s what Professor Ingalls would call 


MAY BARTLETTS STEPMOTHER. 65 

‘ demoralizing.’ She — she tried from the first 
to — to — ” 

Joanna colored a little and stopped. 

May took up her words — “to set me against 
my stepmother. I know what you were going 
to say, but — Joanna — I — I let Cathy talk — I 
made her talk by telling her things. My Cousin 
Jack said last summer that boys, if they were 
rougher than girls, would be ashamed to do 
some of the sneaking things that girls do some- 
times, — the things that were unfair and like 
little lies. I was awfully vexed when he said it, 
but now I think he was just right.” 

“ Oh, no. May,” interrupted Joanna, soothingly. 

“ Yes, I do ; I know he was right.” Then, 
with a catch in her breath. May went on and 
confessed herself, — told of her unfair way of 
looking at things and of representing them ; of 
the garden-party, the village wagon, and other 
“ little lies ” as she now called them. 

“ But you believed you were right then,” still 
soothingly consoled Joanna. 

“ I read the other day in a book that people 
— some people — lie to themselves and believe 
it ! ” Susy suddenly broke forth in her queerest 
way. 

“ Oh, Susy ! ” cried Joanna, looking at May ; 

5 


66 MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 


but May’s lips were drawing up from their 
sad lines, and as she caught Joanna’s eye she 
laughed, Joanna following in a half-suppressed 
giggle. 

‘‘But what I can’t get over,” began May 
again, is that — that last thing that Cathy 
said upstairs here, that — Mamma overheard.” 
As May said this, as she pronounced the word 
“ Mamma,” she colored scarlet. 

“You called her ‘Mamma’ right there that 
night, and. May, she knew how sorry you were 
then, for I saw her smile quick and soft, and I 
told Joanna about it, did n’t I, Joanna ? ” 

“ Oh, but, Susy, that was the least I could do. 
T had to say it. It burst out.” 

“ Why don’t you say some more — let some 
more — what you have told us — ‘ burst out ’ to 
quaintly asked Susy. 

“ Oh, I don’t know how. I feel so mean when 
I think of things.” 

“You wouldn’t feel so mean afterward, and. 
May, you do like her now, don’t you ; that is, 
you don't hate her now, the least bit, do 
you?” 

Susy did say such things ! Joanna turned 
cold as she listened. But May answered as if 
she was relieved to speak, — 


MAY BARTLETTS STEPMOTHER. 67 


I don’t think I ever hated her; it was the 
stepmother.” 

There was a little pause ; then Joanna said, — 

“I think she was lovely, — just lovely to 
Cathy at the party. I was dancing in tlie hall, 
and I saw and heard everything.” 

May thought how in the same way she had 
been lovely to Cathy through the whole week. 

As she thought this, Susy started up from one 
of her small reveries and said brightly, — 

“ Oh, I ’ve been thinking how I wish she 
would like me. I think it would be perfectly 
beautiful ; she ’s so sweet and sort of far off 
and up above us, like an elder sister.” 

Joanna laughed merrily at Susy’s sudden out- 
burst, but to May the words came more seriously. 
She was startled and thrilled by them. 

“ Sweet and sort of far off and up above us.” 
It was n’t a question of one’s liking her., with 
Susy. It was who and what she would like. 
All at once May knew that it was this that was 
of consequence to her now, — this regard of her 
stepmother. She looked back and saw her from 
the first, with that air of fine courtesy tliat had 
never wavered; then, through the last week, 
not only courteous but generously kind. Of 
course she would still go on just the same, — 


68 MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 


that was her way, — having kindness and con- 
sideration for people who did not deserve it ; 
but to have her liking, her loving, — that was 
quite another thing. 

May was silent so long that Joanna felt that 
she was tired, and that it was time for the visit 
to end. 

Going down the stairs, the two girls were met 
by Mrs. Bartlett. 

“What, going so soon?” she said. “Can’t 
you stay longer ?” But when Joanna explained 
why they went, she did not urge them to 
remain. 

Left to herself. May’s thoughts returned to 
the miserable events of the past weeks, the 
mistakes of the past month. If she could talk 
with her stepmother as she had talked to the 
girls, — as Susy had recommended ! But how 
could she ? “ Far off and up above us.” Susy’s 
words haunted her. No, she could never talk 
to her as she had talked to the girls. Her step- 
mother had been kind to her ; she had kissed 
her ; but that was because she meant to do her 
duty. Over and over poor May pondered these 
perplexities. Tired and spent at last, she 
covered her face with her hands, and burst into 
tears. So absorbed was she by her miseries. 


MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 69 


that she did not hear the door open, nor the fall 
of a light footstep. She heard nothing until a 
voice close to her — her stepmother’s voice — 
said gently, — 

“ My dear, what is it ? Are you so tired ?” 

She shook her head ; she was past speaking 
just then. Standing heside her, Mrs. Bartlett 
stroked the tumbled hair with soft quiet touches, 
and spoke not a word. By and by, under these 
soothing strokes, the sobs grew less, and 
presently ceased altogether. Then smilingly, 
but with an apologetic tone, Mrs. Bartlett 
said, — 

‘‘ I ’m afraid I have n’t taken very good care 
of you, my dear, to let you get so tired.” 

“It wasn’t that I was tired, I — I — got to 
thinking after Joanna and Susy went away.” 

“ And I thought Joanna and Susy would 
cheer you.” 

“ Mamma ! ” The color rushed into May’s 
cheeks as she said this. 

“ Yes, my dear.” 

« X — 1 want to tell you something. It was n’t 
true what Cathy said — that night. I did n’t — 
I never hated — you^ 

“ I never thought you did. I think I under- 
stand. It was — the stepmother and I see now 


70 MAY BARTLETTS STEPMOTHER. 


how you were encouraged by that hot-headed, 
foolish Cathy. My dear, I — ” 

u No — no. I — I encouraged Cathy to begin 
with. You mustn’t think it was all Cathy’s 
fault.” Then, with a swift rush of words, 
gathering up her courage with the desperate 
determination that had come to her, May 
poured forth her confessions. All her little 
prejudices, her wilful injustices, were told un- 
sparingly, and at the end, with a little shivering 
sigh that was half a gasp, she burst out, — 

“ But 1 never said what Cathy — thought I 
did, — never, never ! ” 

“ My dear ! ” 

For the first time since she had fairly started 
on her story May looked up and met her step- 
mother’s eyes. They were full of tears, but the 
lips were struggling to smile, to speak. The 
girl was startled at these signs of pain. Had 
she said too much in this confession ? Some- 
thing of this doubt found utterance. Then the 
smile gained over the tears. 

“ Too much ? My dear, you have done the 
best thing in the world for both of us. Now we 
can understand each other. Oh, you poor lonely 
little girl, — to think of all these weeks that you 
have suffered so ! It makes my heart ache.” 


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MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 71 


May heard these words with bewilderment. 

“I thought I was acting for the best when 
I let things take their course, and waited. I 
thought you would resent my going forward, 
and all this time I was leaving you to such 
influence — no, I am not going to blame Cathy, 
altogether, but I ought to have gone forward to 
you at once. I could have trusted the girl who 
has been brave enough to tell the truth as you 
have. You would have done me justice, I am 
sure. But now we are to be friends — you are 
not going — to hate — even the stepmother ? ” 

She smiled and put out her hand, as she said 
this, taking May’s cold little fingers in hers. 
“ No, not even the stepmother, my dear,” smil- 
ing now a little archly. “ You have something 
to forgive her, perhaps, for coming to you with 
so little warning. But I had not intended to — 
to come so soon. It was an accident. My old 
guardian with whom I had lived since I was a 
child, was failing in health, and wished to break 
up his household and go abroad ; but he made 
it a point that I must be married before he 
went. He was very fond of your father and 
had great trust in him, and he wanted to trans- 
fer the care of my property, as well as of myself, 
to his hands at once. I had not intended to 


72 MAY BARTLETT’S STEPMOTHER. 


make this change for six months at least ; but 
when your father joined with my guardian in 
urging it, I yielded, and was guided by him, as 
we are all guided by those we love and trust. 
Your father would have told you all this, no 
doubt, if you had been a little older, but girls 
seem even younger than they are, to fathers, you 
know; and fathers, — I suppose fathers seem 
very old to young daughters like you. May, — 
too old to have any right to begin again a home- 
life with somebody else. But your father is not 
an old man ; he is what is called ‘ in the prime 
of life,’ and probably has many years before 
him ; and. May, your dear mother, when she 
knew that she must leave you both, said to him : 
‘ Don’t live alone long. Find somebody whom 
you can love and who will love you and be 
good to May.’ And, my dear, I love him very 
much, and I w'ant to ‘ be good to May,’ and love 
her too, if she will let me.” 

May looked up into the kind eyes without a 
word, but her fingers closed with a warm pres- 
sure about the hand that held hers, and Mrs. 
Bartlett felt quite content with such an answer. 

On the last day of June of this same year, the 
Bartlett grounds were gay with tents and arches 
and all the rest of the pretty arrangements that 


MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 73 


go to make up a garden-party especially when 
the garden-party is also a birthday-party. 

“Oh, look! isn’t it perfectly beautiful?” 
cried Susy Morris to Joanna, as the two went 
in under the gateway arch. “Just look, Joanna, 
there is her name, ‘ May,’ and underneath, ^ fif- 
teen,’ — made of rosebuds.” 

But if the girls were delighted with this rose- 
bud spelling of May’s name and age, how must 
they have felt when a few steps farther on they 
found themselves under a flowery tent where 
stood May and Mrs. Bartlett, distributing to 
each guest, as they welcomed each, a little nose- 
gay of rosebuds tied with ribbon ? It was a 
perfect day, — all blue sky and sunshine and 
soft breezes, and everywhere the scent of roses ; 
for the Bartlett gardens and hothouses were 
noted for their beautiful roses. The guests 
began to arrive at three o’clock ; the party was 
to be from that hour until seven. The first to 
arrive were the seminary class, — Joanna and 
Susy, Elsie and Cathy Bond, with the dozen 
other girls who made up the number. Each 
one was in white, Cathy in a brand-new white 
nun’s veiling, with knots of red ribbon here and 
there, and a bunch of red roses at her gir- 
dle. May could n’t help thinking of the scarlet 


74 MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 


kalmia and the night that it was worn, as she 
greeted her. Cathy herself, if she did not re- 
call the kalmia, could not but remember that 
first party, and her cheeks flushed until they 
matched her flowers, as she stood before Mrs. 
Bartlett. But that lady was kindness itself. 
There was not a note in her voice, nor a look 
in her eyes that recalled anything of that, past 
disagreeable experience. 

‘‘I hope when I am a woman I shall know 
how to behave just like that,’^ said Joanna, 
energetically, as she and Susy strolled off down 
one of the garden paths, after leaving the recep- 
tion tent. 

“ Just like what — like whom ? ” asked Susy, 
in rather a dazed way. 

“ Why, like Mrs. Bartlett. Did you see how 
nice and easy she was to Cathy, as if Cathy had 
always been nice to her, — how she took pains 
to change the pink rosebuds tied with pink 
ribbon, for red ones tied with red ribbon, when 
she saw Cathy’s dress ? I’m sure Cathy ought 
to love her now, and not be ofhsh any more.” 

“ ^ Offish ’ ? ” repeated Susy, still in her queer, 
dazed little way. 

“Yes, why you hnow how she’s acted ever 
since tliat night of the party. She did n’t go near 


MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 75 


May to inquire how her ankle was, until it was 
nearly well, and then she went with one of the 
teachers ; and since then she has only been to 
the house once, — once in all these six months, 

— and she has had hardly anything to say to 
May since ! ” 

“Well, but, Joanna, I think that’s because 
she ’s been ashamed and sorry. I think both of 
them, she and May, have felt ashamed and 
sorry, and that made them feel queer, and 
keep away from each other. I — I think that 
’way down in her heart Cathy would like to 

— to love Mrs. Bartlett, and to have her love 
her a little ; for, Joanna, did you notice Cathy’s 
new dress, and did you notice her hair? She 
might have had the skirt made long if she had 
chosen to, but she did n’t ; it ’s at the top of her 
boots, like ours, and instead of piling her hair 
up high, as she did that night, it is braided and 
tied with ribbon. Now, I think that shows 
something how Cathy feels.” 

“ Well, but, Susy, she has been so stiff with 
May and all the rest of us, whenever Mrs. Bart- 
lett’s name has been mentioned ; and don’t you 
remember when May came back, after she got 
well, and there were a lot of us in my room 
together one day, and one of the girls said 


76 MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 


something about a stepmother, and May broke 
out and made a sort of confession of the mis- 
takes she had made about her stepmother, and 
explained, and took back ever so many things, 
— don’t you remember that right in the midst 
of her talk that Cathy stuck up that little chin 
of hers and marched out of the room ? ” 

“Yes, I remember; but, Joanna, I can see 
how Cathy felt. She felt mortified, and that 
made her feel cross ; and she felt, too, that May 
was as much to blame as she was, in — in tell- 
ing her things, and so, — well, sort of asking 
for her pity, and encouraging her to talk. Don’t 
you see ? ” 

“ Yes, I see, you dear little peace-patcher, but, 
all the same, I think Cathy might have pocketed 
her ‘ cross ’ and just said something, — a word 
or two that was nice about Mrs. Bartlett, after 
being treated so sweetly by her.” 

“ Cathy did say to me once, when we were 
alone, that she guessed May’s stepmother was 
going to turn out better than we expected.” 

“ She guessed May’s stepmother was' going to 
turn out better than we expected. Oh, Susy, 
that is rich ! and it is just like Cathy.” 

“ But I think that shows that she ’s coming 
’round all right.” 


MAY BARTLETT^ S STEPMOTHER. 77 


“ Well, maybe she is ; but it ’s coming Wound. 
That ’s just it ; not standing up fair and square 
and saying, like May, that she ’s been in the 
wrong. I hate roundabout things, anyway.” 

“ Yes, but Cathy W always been so at the 
head, here at school, so popular, that I suppose 
it was n’t very easy for her to come out and say 
she had been in the wrong.” 

“ She ’d be a good deal more popular if she 
would come out like that. There ’s May ; none 
of the girls ever liked her as they do now.” 

“ Yes, I know, but — oh, hark, Joanna, there ’s 
a fiddle, two fiddles, listen ! They ’re tuning up ! 
We ’re going to have music ! ” 

“ And dancing ! That ’s what it means ! ” 

The two girls scampered toward the sound. 
It led them around a corner to where stood a 
big square tent, open at both ends, and charm- 
ingly decorated ; on a little raised platform 
above the main flooring sat two fiddlers and a 
harper tuning their instruments. 

“Turn ti turn, turn ti turn,” sung Joanna, as 
the sweet scraping of a fiddle-bow started off on 
a bar of the Lancers.” The players smiled and 
dashed into a swifter movement, and Joanna, 
catching Susy about the waist, went dancing 
with her down the floor as light of heart as of 


78 MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 


foot. By the time they had reached the length 
of the tent, other girls came flocking in, and the 
harp, joining with the fiddles, set them all in 
motion. 

In another part of the grounds there was 
tennis for those who liked it, and one could 
hear the jubilant calls of “play,” “’vantage,” 
ringing out and mingling with the dance-music 
until late in the afternoon. Then came the 
bountiful supper, served under the trees from 
prettily arranged little tables, to which all the 
guests came flocking with hearty outdoor appe- 
tites. Long before seven o’clock, all the guests 
had declared that it was the very prettiest party 
they had ever attended, and that they had never 
had such a “ perfectly beautiful time.” 

At the very last, the crowning fun for the 
four seminary girls came when May drove them 
home in the village wagon. It was a roomy 
wagon, but five of them — just think of it ! I 
don’t know how they ever crowded in, but they 
did, and Mrs. Bartlett helped them do it, laugh- 
ing like a girl herself. 

As May turned the pony’s head, Susy ex- 
claimed, — 

“ But this is n’t the old pony, — old Jimmy ! ” 

“No, this is a new one. Isn’t he a beauty? 


> 



Good-uight, Mrs. Bartlett. 






MAY BARTLETT S STEPMOTHER. 79 


It ’s Mammals birthday present to me, — bought 
with her own money, — and — and it was she 
who gave me the wagon in the autumn. I did n’t 
know it until Papa told me this morning.” 

There was the least little bit of a conscious 
pause, then they all began to talk briskly of the 
pony’s merits, and in the middle of this talk 
May asked Cathy: if she would n’t like to drive. 
There was nothing that could have pleased Cathy 
more, and she took the pretty red reins from 
May with a delighted “ Thank you.” 

Mrs. Bartlett was waiting to smile her final 
good-byes to them as they drove up the driveway 
past the piazza, and it was just then, as they 
went whisking by, that Cathy, with a bright red 
blush, kissed her hand, and called out sweetly 
above the others’ voices,— 

“ Good-night, Mrs. Bartlett ; I ’ve had a lovely 
time.” 

Susy, cuddled down in the bottom of the 
wagon close up against J oanna, breathed a little 
sigh of satisfaction, and gave a little squeeze to 
Joanna’s hand. 


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ANOTHER FLOCK OF GIRLS. 

BY NORA PERRY. 

Illustrated by Reginald B. Birch and Charles Copeland. 
Small 4to. Cloth, Gilt, $1.60. 


This favorite book includes “May Bartlett’s Step- 
mother,” “Ju-Ju’s Christmas Party,” “A New Year’s 
Call,” “Jenny’s Lark,” and “ Sally 
Green’s Clambake Party. 

As a writer of stories for girls. Miss 
Perry has hardly an equal. 

Indianapolis News. 

Miss Perry knows how to make her 
maidens very bright and spirited. 

The Nation. 

Miss Perry has the art of making her tales 
thoroughly attractive and natural, while they con- 
vey lessons of the most noble and high character. 

Boston Courier. 

There is a charm and grace, and above all, a 
naturalness about Miss Perry’s stories which make 
them peculiarly fascinating to young readers. 

Boston Transcript. 



A handsomely boimd and beautifully illustrated quarto, and the contents are 
worthy of their elegant setting, for they are rare literary jewels, which all juvenile 
readers of the feminine gender will heartily appreciate. There is nothing stiff or 
stilted in Miss Perry’s method of telling a story. It is as free and simple as the 
breath of the meadow or wildwood. — Boston Saturday Evening Gazette. 


She is always charmingly interesting in her stories, because they are so per- 
fectly natural, bright in conversation, and healthful in their influence. The leading 
story of this new “ Flock of Girls ” occupies about one half of the volume, and is 
one of the best stories that Miss Perry ever wrote, which is as high praise as could 
be given to it. — Boston Home Journal. 


One of the few authors so thoroughly in sympathy with young girls as to be 
able to reach the innermost recesses of their loving hearts ; and the many charming 
stories she has written place her on the same level with the much loved Louisa 
Alcott, and we know of no higher tribute to her talent. — Baltimore American. 


LITTLE, BROWN. &; CO., PUBLISHERS 



\ Rosebud Garden of Girls. 

BY NORA PERRY. 

With Fourteen Illustrations by F. C. Gordon. 

I2mo. Cloth, Gilt, $1.60. 

CONTENTS. 

• lie Cottage Neighbors. A New Year’s Dinner Party. 

‘ Bessie at Boarding-School. The Princess Emily. 

Maldle Grey’s Afternoon Tea. The little Housebreaker. 


Her children talk and act like healthy, natural girls and boys. 

Literary World. 

Happy and simple pictures of girlhood, that will delight all who glance 
at them. — Boston Herald. 

For entertainment and thorough wholesoineness, Nora Perry’s books for 
girls have never been excelled. — Boston Advertiser. 

The charm of the writing of these delightful stones is its simplicity, 
sincerity, and perfect understanding of girls. — St. Paul Despatch. 

Bright and cheerful sketches of girl-life by one whose deft hand has been 
trained to delight the fastidious readers to whom she appeals. 

Current Literature. 

Six short stories for girls, and they are, what their name suggests, as 
pure and sweet as rosebuds. Girls will be the better for reading them. 

Independent. 

Six charming stories, each full of girl-talk and girl-life, and each more 
winsome than the other. — St. Louis Republic. 

As graceful, as delicate, and as winning as the heart of the most exact- 
ing girl could wish. — Boston Courier. 

Will be sure to delight young girls. — New York Times. 

Nora Perry understands the young girl to perfection, and can present her 
winning side and paint her foibles with equal skill and faithfulness. 

Sprinyfield Republican. 

Nora Perry is one of the most delightful writers of stories for girls that 
wield the pen for their pleasure. — Boston Home Journal. 


LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers. 


IDope IBenijam. 

By NORA PERRY. 

With Eight J^ull-Page Illustrations by Frank T. Merrill 
I2mo. Cloth, Gilt, '31.60. 


The stor}* is simple in style and true in feeling, as are all of Miss 
Perry’s. — The Critic. 

As a picture of school-girl days and ways the book is thoroughly whole- 
some and charming. — Publishers’ Weekly. 

' It is a story for girls which can be heartily recommended, both for its 
readableness and its healthy tone. — Cleveland Plain Dealer. 

Miss Perry’s other books, such as “Another Flock of Girls,” “A Rose- 
bud Garden of Girls,” will, with the present volume, serve to rank her high 
among the lovers of girls. — Church Union. 

The secret of Miss Perry’s success is that she has the rare ability to put 
herself in complete rapport with girls, to fully understand their varied dis- 
positions and temperaments, and in a perfectly natural way, without any 
preachment, to appeal to the best that is within them. — Boston Home 
Journal. 


H Iflocfe of 0(rl6 anil 

By NORA PERRY. 

With Nine Full-Page Illustrations and Numerous Initial Letters, 
ETO., BY Charlotte Tiffany Parker. I2mo. Cloth, Gilt, $1.50. 


The new series of delightful stories by this popular author is one of 
the most attractive yet published. It comprises the following stories : — 


1. That Little Smith Girl. 

2. The Egg Boy. 

3. Ma.iok Molly’s Christmas 

Promise. 

4. Polly’s Valentine. 

5. Sibyl’s Slipper. 


6. A Boarding School Samaritan. 

7. Esther Bodn. 

8. Becky. 

9. Ally. 

10. An April Fool. 

11. The Thanksgiving Guest. 


LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers, 


A FLOCK OF GIRLS. 


With Eight Full*Page Illustrations. I2mo. sI.60. 


TACY. 

JIM. 

KATE OXFORD, 

VIOLET. 

LOUISE. 


SHARLY. 

MARIGOLD. 

DOROTHY. 

MARGARET. 

PATTY. 


TIB TYLER. 

CON OWEN’S BLUNDER. 
DOLLY’S CHRISTMAS 


KETTLEDRUM. 
NOBLESSE OBLIGE. 


Wlien was a volume from Miss Perry’s hands ever otherwise than de- 
lightful V — The Ci'itic (New York). 

On either side of the Atlantic a flock of nice girls is always welcome. — 
The Academy (London).. 


THE YOUNGEST MISS LORTON, 


AND OTHER STORIES. 


With Full-Page Illustrations by Copeland. I2mo. $1.60. 


THE YOUNGEST MISS LORTON. THE STORY OF LITTLE SYL. 


THE LITTLE DUNBARS. 
MOLLY GAIR’S NEW DRESS 
DOLLY VARDEN. 

WHAT HOPE BELL FOUND. 


THAT RIDICULOUS CHILD, 
THE KIL CAT CLUB. 
SUSY’S DRAGON. 

IN A RAG BAG. 


If we only had more just such literature for our young people, the world 
would be the better for it. There is a charming simplicity about Miss Perry’s 
style, a gentle pathos, and a piquant cheerfulness which are very winning. — 
Portland Press. 

Nora Perry has achieved a marked success in making books for young 
girls. — San Francisco Bulletin. 

They are fresh and bright as the morning, and as pure as the dew ; just 

such stories as mothers would like to seejn the hands of their daughters. • 

Boston Transcmpt. 


HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 


Publishers. 




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